


A Christmas Present for Dean

by mansikka



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bunker Fluff, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:17:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8997901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: A twenty-four drabble-long fic that started out life as a sort of advent calendar on Tumblr.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This is a Christmas gift for readers/writers/the fandom as a whole.
> 
> Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Blessed Overindulgence Day to you - whatever you're doing :)
> 
> All the hugs :)
> 
> xx

So many things, Cas muses to himself as he walks around the store. The lights overhead twinkle and decorations both delicate and garish hang from every spare spot of ceiling and every edge of shelf. Music plays, upbeat and festive, and not for the first time he finds himself bemused by the celebration that is _Christmas_ here on earth. But what to _buy_ , Cas asks himself yet again. What is the perfect gift to get for the human who has come to mean everything to you? Who has already given you everything you could ever want by giving you _himself_?

 

It isn’t as though Christmas _isn’t_ celebrated in heaven, Cas thinks with a smile. Humans who have returned to the heavenly host yet still feel tied to earthly traditions, involving mile upon twinkling mile of tinsel and fairylights, feasts that are simply gluttonous, and songs sung, celebrating the birth of a man who Cas knows first-hand would be _mortified_ by all of this unnecessary attention. Dean reminds him of Jesus so much at times with how selfless he can be, but any time such praise slips from Cas’ lips Dean’s ears blush red and he has to change the subject.

 

 _Celebrating_ here on Earth, Cas thinks, raising up a ceramic bastardisation of a cherub then returning it to the shelf with a grimace at the glitter that’s now become a part of his skin, Christmas and indeed all celebrations are so much more _pleasurable_. He and Dean have been known to celebrate everything from time to time; from a new episode of Game of Thrones to a hunt finishing early enough for them to return to their own bed in the bunker instead of the lumpy awfulness that would otherwise be waiting for them in a motel room beside Sam.

 

 _Sam_ , Cas thinks with a groan, pressing a glittered palm against his forehead and then cursing himself for it. What on earth is he going to get for Sam? Actually, Cas thinks then, striding with purpose along the aisles and carefully reading the signs above his head to check where he is going; Sam is easy to buy for. He’s so grateful for _everything_ that whatever he chooses he knows Sam will be grinning gleefully at him in thanks. Still, _these_ books, Cas smiles, adding them to the basket, _this_ music, and _these_ headphones; Sam really will appreciate these things.

 

 _Mary_ , Cas gasps, heading towards the perfumery of this cavernous department store, approaching an assistant with trepidation. How do you choose exactly the right fragrance for a woman who is mere infant to you in terms of age, but has also become _mother_ to you because of the relationship you have formed with her sons? And more than that, Cas smiles, humbled, he and Mary _like_ each other. She has welcomed him as part of their family like he truly _belongs_. That he loves Dean seems all she needs to see, and _that_ he gives her freely without even trying.

 

Silk slides between his fingers and Cas smiles small to himself, remembering Dean’s suggestion that he _wrap himself up in nothing but a red bow_ when he’d said he wanted to buy him a Christmas present. Well, since he _asked_ for that, Cas grins, dropping the length of ribbon into the basket and trying to keep the images that creates for him from distracting him too much. But yesterday he’d returned to their room to find Dean wearing nothing but a Santa hat and a wicked smile, and now he’s discreetly having to adjust himself before he can continue shopping.

 

Maybe a shirt? Cas muses, zeroing in on one he knows is the perfect colour for Dean, and the jeans that will fit him just right. Those are added to the basket as well and Cas debates changing it for a cart, but then is distracted by a novelty festive thong that makes him laugh to himself and throws that in as well, along with four pairs of Christmas socks Cas thinks will be thick enough to wear even on the cold floors of the bunker. But none of these gifts feel like _enough_ , Cas sighs, and continues his search.

 

Basket lowered into a cart and Cas keeps shopping; decorations of every colour begin to pile up in it along with mistletoe (he _knows_ that tradition even if he needs no excuse to kiss Dean at every opportunity), advent calendars (Marvel for Dean, My Little Pony for Sam because Cas knows Dean will love him for it, a traditional one for himself and something more elegant-looking for Mary), a star for the top of the Christmas tree he intends to get (and not climb – even though Dean keeps making jokes about it) and something tasty-looking called a Yule Log.

 

Gift wrapping paraphernalia, greetings cards, a beautiful notebook and pen for Mary since she shares his disdain of all things electrical – aside from _that_ battery operated thing Dean brought home one time and they both get a lot of _enjoyment_ out of. Not that he should be thinking of such things in the same space as Dean’s _mother_ , Cas chides himself, alarmed and feeling his cheeks heat with blush. Although when he gets back to the bunker, if Dean’s free…

 

Batteries are added to the cart just in case. As is Astroglide, discreetly hidden under the wrapping paper there.

 

But what to get for _Dean_? Cas isn’t _worried_ about not finding the perfect gift, but he does want to get him _something_ that will go some way to convey what he means to him. Perhaps that’s the problem; there isn’t anything big _enough_ to put something so important into such a simple gift. He’s going to try though, Cas thinks to himself, determined, and soon the cart is further weighed down with this scent he really likes on Dean, coffee beans he knows are Dean’s favourite and three different flavours of pie he can’t wait to watch Dean try.

 

***

 

Cas’ Christmas shopping continues over several days, everything stored in _his_ room that he’s never used, having moved into Dean’s room the first night Dean had told him to _make himself at home_. There’d been a fleeting fear that he didn’t mean it after _that_ incident, but the look of love in Dean’s eyes that first night and Cas had known then as he knows now, he is Dean’s, and Dean’s to keep. And vice versa: if only he could find the perfect gift to _show_ Dean that, Cas sighs to himself, surveying his purchases once more before he leaves.

 

Despite the mound of gifts steadily growing for Dean, and those for Mary and Sam as well as though to compensate, Cas still doesn’t feel like he’s got Dean _enough_. Especially when Dean shoos him away affectionately on returning from his own shopping with bag upon bag of things he knows are intended for _him_. Mary catches him staring after Dean dejectedly and her smile is warm. “Just give him _you_ , Cas. That’s all he wants,” she tells him, sounding sage and sweet and so very sure. But, Cas asks himself repeatedly throughout the day, what does that actually _mean?_

 

“Dean’s always loved Christmas; even when we’ve had no reason to. Even when he says he doesn’t,” Sam tells Cas one morning as though he’s telling him a confidence. “He’s even more excited this year,” He adds, a smile curving up his mouth.

 

“You have your mother this year,” Cas says, smiling himself because family is _everything_ to Dean: no wonder he’s so much happier this year.

 

“True,” Sam says, nodding. “And he’s got _you_ ,”

 

“He’s always had me,” Cas corrects, shaking his head. Sam gives him a small, secret smile that Cas tries to interpret.

 

***

 

Dean grumpily and repeatedly calls Cas Scrooge; Cas thinks of the outrageous amount of gifts he’s _still_ not got round to wrapping up and his heart sinks, thinking he’s never quite going to get human _right_ or be enough for Dean in the ways he needs him to be. But then Sam pulls him to one side and points out he’s been correcting the words to every single Christmas carol Dean’s been playing in the car the past two days, and how rare that is for Dean to do. Cas apologises the best way he knows how, beneath soft sheets.

 

With all three Winchesters asleep Cas rises early, reluctant to leave the warmth of Dean’s arms but excited to see their faces when they all eventually surface. With care and diligence Cas drags out first the tree he’s stealthily managed to sneak in, then all of the decorations, and quietly goes about making the bunker festive. It’s worth it for the sleepy way Dean blinks himself awake and goes wide eyed and stunned, allowing Cas to take him by the hand to show him all he’s done, and making repeated use of the mistletoe before Sam and Mary even stir.

 

Mary tells stories of Dean’s earliest of Christmases, of her hopes for watching Sam and Dean get excited for Santa and adding homemade decorations to the tree. There’s a wistful look on her face that silences the room and no one has the right words to make better; Cas sneaks out, remembering a craft store he’d passed on buying yet _more_ things for Dean, returning with so much stuff to make decorations with Sam says it’s like they’ve got their own Santa’s grotto. Mary hugs him hard; Dean rewards him with a thorough loving kiss and brightness in his eyes.

 

Sam is fascinated by the _true_ stories of Christmas Cas tells him throughout the days leading up to Christmas, and Dean’s interested too, even when he pretends he isn’t, playing with Cas’ fingers in his lap as he speaks. Mary quietly observes the three of them with a pleased smile on her face; Cas can’t read her mind specifically but he knows _family_ , _contentment_ and _happiness_ when he sees it in someone. He knows what that _feels_ like to have as well, he thinks later that evening, as Dean stirs sleepy and sated against his chest and slowly falls asleep.

 

***

 

They’re on a hunt when Dean catches cold; there’s little Cas can do to help him in the ways he used to, but what he can do is smother him in additional blankets in their motel room bed, buy every flu remedy he can find in the local pharmacy, and fuss and worry over him until Sam’s teasing him about usurping Dean as mother hen. Dean is too sick to say much of anything, just clings on to Cas and snuffles. Cas is relieved the day his fever breaks; at Dean’s insistence they lay in bed together watching White Christmas.

 

***

 

“So you really can’t taste anything? Anything at _all_?”

 

Mary sounds so upset for him, and yes, Cas thinks, there’s moments when he _does_ miss the taste of food. But he can taste coffee, and he can taste beer, and Dean’s forced enough pie on him for Cas to know he prefers the _taste_ of apple pie to any other flavour, so he tells Mary as much, and it seems to make her smile in relief.

 

“Besides,” Cas adds, nudging Dean beside him, “It is enough watching you all enjoying a meal; I like seeing that very much,”

 

“Dean’s world champion at sloppy eating,” Sam laughs, earning himself a scowl from Dean. Cas shrugs; anything done in Dean’s company is enjoyable to him, messy or not. In fact there’s quite a few things they do together that are _very_ messy and he enjoys _immensely_. Sam doesn’t need to know the details of those, however.

 

“So? Not gonna stop Cas joining us for Christmas dinner. Even if he _can’t_ taste anything. Right, Cas?”

 

Mary’s question sets tension across Dean’s shoulders; there’s a hungry, _hopeful_ look in Dean’s eyes as he looks at Cas, waiting for his answer.

 

Cas finally gets it. Dean’s quiet comments and questions. His reactions to Mary’s inclusion of Cas in their plans as though him being there is already a given. Sam’s gentle suggestions out of Dean’s earshot, and after all this time, Cas finally understands.

 

Dean’s sitting reading; Cas silently takes down the mistletoe, straddles to sit on Dean’s lap, holds the mistletoe above them as he plucks the book from Dean’s fingers, and leans down to kiss him.

 

“I will be with you for Christmas, Dean,” Cas promises, relief and gratefulness curving Dean’s mouth into a smile against his lips.

 

***

 

A festive Dean is a thing to behold. True, Cas has seen Dean happy in multiple ways on many occasions, but the certainty of having his family around him for Christmas seems to light Dean from within. He’s humming in the shower (more than usual), there’s festive greetings for almost everyone he passes, and the way Dean beams when passing lit up houses once it’s dark puts smiles on the faces of all the occupants of the Impala. Although those smiles slip a little when Dean hangs mistletoe above the front seat and kisses Cas at every opportunity he gets.

 

***

 

Dean’s accepted Mary doesn’t cook, and his preparations for the Christmas dinner to end all Christmas dinners takes on a hint of hysteria when he can’t get the seasoning he wants in the local grocery store. Cas kisses it out of him, distracting him enough to look stupefied and allow Sam to sneak things into the cart that Dean’s already said he won’t accept in _his_ kitchen. Only Cas is allowed in as Dean begins to _prepare things in advance_ days before; Cas silently passes things off to Sam and Mary at the doorway and greets them with rueful smiles.

 

***

 

Cas’ grin on the way back to the bunker feels like it’s going to split his face. The bag wedged between his thighs as though he’s not willing to let it out of his grip contains a gift Cas is certain Dean is going to love more than anything; the thought makes him a little humble and his breath catch a touch, and Cas really can’t wait to see Dean’s face when he opens it.

 

Back at the bunker each of them are in separate rooms wrapping their gifts, and Cas knows he’s got his work cut out for him because he’s just bought so _much_. It’s fine; the Christmas kisses Dean insisted on when Cas got back from shopping are more than enough to keep his mind satisfied as he cuts, sticks and folds his way through the afternoon.

 

Later that evening, when Cas insists on giving Dean this one gift earlier because it’s the most important, there are tears followed by more kisses then a joining of hands as Dean drags Cas out of their room into the bunker to show off their fingers adorned with rings he’s had engraved in Enochian. The rings are only symbolic, but to Dean they obviously mean a great deal; the smile on his face is so joyous it’s infectious, and as they toast in celebration with the eggnog Sam’s made and clearly been liberal with the alcohol content of, it truly feels like Christmas has come.

 

_***_


End file.
